


Dark Paths

by Enide_Dear



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No sex though, SO, There will be violence, and common torture, and mind torture, cooperate or die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-09-23 12:33:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20340175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enide_Dear/pseuds/Enide_Dear
Summary: Gimli gets caught by orchs and brought deep into Mordor where he meets a strange elf who has somehow managed to survive the extremely hostile imprisonment. Perhaps they can work together and use each others skills to escape but generations of mistrust lays between them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [2000GigolasFics](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2000GigolasFics) collection. 

> **Prompt:**
> 
> Gimli and Legolas have been taken prisoners and brought deep into Mordor. Now they must cooperate if they are to make it out alive.

The cage was just deep enough that if he stood very, very still in the middle of it and kept his head bowed, they couldn’t reach him. That didn’t stop the orcs from trying though; even with guard supposedly there to protect him the carriage his cage was on was constantly swarmed with orcs. Filthy slobbering faces pressed against the bars, screaming obscenities and long arms clawed through the black iron bars to reach him before the orc guards chased them down with whips and curses. But not for long. The road they were travelling through whatever hellish place - a city? a burg? he didn’t know and didn’t care to find out - was overrun with the foul spawns, all of them out to kill him and all of them thwarted by the cage, if he stood still and meek in the middle and kept his head down. 

Gimli had no intention of behaving like cattle on the way to slaughter. 

He stomped at the claws reaching for him; hit the leering faces that pressed against bars, kicked and cursed and fought them for every inch he had, let out all the anger in his soul. Anger was good; he clung to it even as he got too close and claws tore at him or hit him and left him bloody. Anger was much, much better than contemplating what fate could await a dwarf caught and brought into Mordor. Much better than wondering where this carriage was taking him and what would happen to him when he got there. Much better than fear and despair. 

He barely spared a glance at the carriage next to him, occasionally visible between the waves of frenzied orchs. Another prisoner, in a slightly larger cage, travelling in parallel to their unknown fate. Now if it had been another dwarf in that cage, the sight might have cheered him - not that he wished to share this fate with anyone of his people, but at least he would not be alone - and if it had been a Man, well, that would have been something to build an alliance on in a situation such as this. But it was an Elf; a damn pointy-eared treacherous weakling, who would no doubt sacrifice him to save himself given the slightest chance. The elf didn’t even fight; he just stood there in the the exact middle where they couldn’t reach him, staring of into the distance. From what little Gimli could see, the elf looked very tired and pale and extremely dirty and also vaguely familiar; he didn’t socialize with elves normally but three was something about this one that still rang a bell. Not that it probably mattered. They’d both be dead or wishing they were before the day was done. 

Well, Gimli thought grimly as he broke another wrist, at least it wasn’t a hobbit in the other cage. The thought of one of that happy people in Mordor was enough to make anyone lose heart. 

After an hellish eternity on the slow carriage showing them off to the army like spoils of war the carriages rolled into a strange building, tall and dark like everything here but to Gimli’s dismay well built, if in a peculiar curved shape. Gates close behind them, shutting out the howling mob and plunging them into almost total darkness. Gulping down air after his fights, Gimli tried to still his beating heart. Whatever would happen, he would soon know it, far too soon….

He was suddenly aware that the elf was staring at him; he had stepped forward to grab the dirty iron bars of his own cage and in the half-light his eyes were strangely glowing. Like sapphires in a mine. Gimli thought then shook off the familiar vision. There were nothing like home here. 

To his surprise, the elf spoke. 

“Brace yourself against the bars.” His voice was hoarse as if he hadn’t used it for a long time and once more something nagged at Gimli’s memory, but he had no time to catch the elusive though. One of the orch guards started kicking at his cage and he barely had time to grab hold of the bars before the cage fell off the carriage with a slam that would have broken a few of his bones if he hadn’t been prepared. The elf’s cage got the same treatment and now there were both sprawled on the mucky ground.

“No fucking talking, filth!” a guard’s whip came down on the elf’s cage and although the elf rolled away, the tip of it still tore up his cheek, missing the eye with less than an inch. 

“Bastard son of an orch!” The words came out before Gimli could stop them but the guards only laughed cruelly and grabbed both cages, dragging them over the ground. 

The elf wasn’t looking at him anymore and Gimli was too preoccupied with were they were going to care. It wasn’t a torture chamber, he realized as they were dragged into the middle of a enormous open space, surrounded by walls to high to climb above which sat hundreds upon hundreds of orchs, orchs that yelled and screamed and threw dirty down on the floor like a vision from hell. 

It was an arena. 

And on the throne like chair at the head sat a Nazgul. 

Gimli felt his heart drop like a stone at the sight; he’d heard of ringwraiths in hushed whispers but he’d never thought he’d see one with his own eyes. The creature seemed to radiate a foul evil that made all those close to it - even orchs - whimper and shrivel and its uneyes seemed to stare into his very soul.

He was barely aware that the cages were opened and the guards hurried out until a long hand reached down and grabbed his shoulder, forcefully breaking his contact with the Man-like creature.

“Don’t look at it! It will steal your soul away. You must focus. You must fight!” The elf was shaking him, a weary kind of desperation in his eyes. Eyes blue like mountain lakes. Like home.

Gimli forced himself back to the present, the memory of home burning away the last evil fog, but he didn’t dare look back up. The nazgul was still there. He could feel it draining warmth and strength from him like an inverted sun. 

“Fight? What do you mean, elf?” He shouted over the thundering roar of the orch mob surrounding them. 

For answer, the elf merely pointed. 

A gate opened in the curved wall and orchs came through it; five of them, and huge and all armed and armoured. A roar came from the audience and the combatant lifted their weapons high, basking in the cheering.

Gimli had to stop himself from taking a few steps back.

"What do we do?!" he shouted over the din. He had only the clothes and boots on his body; no weapon and no armour and most of what he had was torn from the horrifying cage ride over here. The elf was no better. his clothes shown signs of wear and tear far beyond Gimli's and they were dirtier too.

"We fight. We survive. We try to remember that each orch we kill here is one less to attack our people back home." It was fighting words, but the look in the elf's eyes were one of almost complete exhaustion. The thought hit Gimli; this wasn't the first time the elf fought in this arena.

"Kill them with our bare hands?!" He shouted in disbelif but the elf didn't hear. To Gimli's absolute horror he was already sprinting across the arena, looking to attack before the orchs came closer. He'd been still in the cage but now he was a whirlwind of motion. Gimli swore every curse he'd ever known but hurried for his cage and started tearing at the bars. He'd heard one loosen when they were dumped to the ground. He had hoped to be able to use that to try to escape but what was the point if he didn't survive the next few minutes? he found the bar and braced his feet, with a slow agonizing sound of metal creaking he tore loose an iron bar as long as himself. It wasn't a good weapon but it was far better than nothing.

And he might as well die fighting.

"Barud-khazad!" he sprinted after the elf.

When Gimli came out of the battle fog the orchs were dead. He wasn't entirely sure how but he had hazy memories of smashing one of their brains in and impaling another. The other three....he supposed the elf must have gotten to them. The same elf that was now rifling through the carcasses with desperate speed and tearing off helmets and chain mail.

"We....did it." Gimli huffed, leaning on his metal staff but the elf just shook his head. Wild eyed he tossed over a filthy helmet that Gimli caught mostly by surprise.

"It's not over yet. Look alive, fire beard!"

Fire beard? But there was no time for that; the gates were opening again and Gimli had to smack the ugly helmet down over his head and try to get air into his longues. how long would this last? Would they keep sending opponents until they could fight no more? But the elf was right. He might have failed his people by being caught and brought here but he could still kill as many orchs as possible before he died.

What came in through the gate was no orch.

Gimli had heard of cave trolls, had even fought them. But always in a cadre of other skilled warriors and always in a strategically chosen place. Not out in the open, with nothing but an ill fitting helmet, an iron bar and an unreliable ally to help him. Despite his best intentions his limbs felt heavy as lead as despair crept up on him. This was....impossible.

"This will be the last one. Just get through this and we'll live another day. Don't give up now!" He heard the elf mutter inside his own clumsy helmet. The elf had thrown on a chainmail and picked up a sword that looked far too heavy and clumsy in his hand.

"Are you talking to me or yourself, blue eyes?" Gimli snarled. "How many times have you done this?"

Weary blue eyes looked down on him.

"Too many times." Then he charged at the beast.

Gimli tried to keep up; whoever this elf was, he didn't like waiting around for his enemies and he was fast enough that he might take them by surprise. But dwarves had different strategies. Gimli planted his feet as an enormous fist came down at him and blocked with his staff. The metal almost bent form the onslaught and his arms shook but the attack was deflected. he had no idea how to kill this creature and his staff looked ridiculously small. It would be like tossing a stick at an oliphant. But it wasn't in him to give up so he raised the staff to crush the troll's toes when he accidentally looked too high.

The Nazgul caught his eyes.

All hope and warmth fled him immediately. In those uneyes he saw only death and despair and it poured into him like a flood, impossible to stop. He was vaguely aware that the troll rose a foot to stomp him but couldn't bring himself to care or move. better to die now, better to embrace his fate...

"No!" Someone barged into him and pushed him brutally aside, breaking his contact with the nazgul once more as he rolled in the dirt. He came to his feet still clutching his staff to see the horrible foot stomp down on the elf who barely managed to roll aside. The cave troll came after him, stamping and hitting to the roar of the orchs and if it just hit him once there would be nothing left of the elf to even scrape up from the ground.

Gimli didn't think; furious with the nazgul and the orchs and the troll and being saved by an elf, he rushed to the troll, scrambled up on its back and drove the staff with all his might down on its head. He heard bone crunch but it didn't' stop the troll. It screamed and then screamed again as the elf got to his feet and shoved the clumsy orch sword into its belly. The troll started topping over and Gimli kept hitting it just vaguely aware that the elf was screaming:

"Break its neck! Break its neck!" but the words held no meaning and the damn creature was too stubborn to die; it reached up to grope after Gimli and he felt those huge hands grab him, preparing to tear him apart and then an orch sword came out of nowhere, chopping through air and flesh.

The troll howled in agony as its hands fell to the ground, fingers still clutched around Gimli's midriff. He shook them off, trying to shake off the feeling of cold dead hands around his body as well but the elf was already raising the sword to cut the bleeding, panicking troll’s head straight off.

A single word made the elf stagger and drop the sword.

the next word had him crawling on the ground, clutching his head and screaming like the dying troll.

Gimli could only look aghast as the warrior that had saved him from the troll rolled on the ground, defeated by a string of evil sounding words that Gimli didn't understand and didn't care too understand. He didn't have to look up to know from where they came.

"Stop it! Stop it!" He shouted as he ran for the elf, not daring to look up at the nazgul. The whole arena had fallen silent but for the sound of the screaming elf, the chanting nazgul and the cave troll that still, somehow, hadn't died and was now heading straight for the elf with deranged vengeance in its beady eyes.

"Stand back, dwarf." Those words were spoken in a language he understood, although he wished he didn't. In the corner of his eyes he could see the nazgul stood up, looking down on them. the elf seemed to have passed out on the ground. The troll was crawling closer. it might not have hands but it had teeth and feet and pure bulk with which to kill someone and it was fixed on the helpless elf. "Stand back and let him die and we shall let you go. You will be free. No elven blood will taint your hands. All you need to do is...nothing."

Nothing? Just stand back and he would be released, he could go back to his people, he didn't have to die a lonely filthy death here, forgotten by everyone he loved.

He didn't even have to do anything. Just...leave this elf who had tried to help him several times at his own expense. Just leave an innocent person - even if it was an innocent *elf* - to die a horrible death under the nazgul's uneyes. Uneyes that bored right into his soul. 

Underneath the elf's eyelids he could see a faint blue line, like the sky on a summer day. At the core of the dwarf's soul, the nazgul hit pure bedrock.

Gimli took up the iron bar and with the worst curse he knew tossed it straight at the nazgul. Pandemonium erupted at the stage; the staff passed straight through the wraith without harm but it was enough distraction that Gimli could tear his gaze free and jump in front of the cave troll. He grabbed the orch sword and swung it down, cleaving its head from the body as it finally stopped moving.

For a few heartbeats Gimli thought the orchs would storm the arena and he prepared to die once more as he stood protectively over the elf who was just coming back to life, dizzy and disoriented. But the nazgul hissed a command and the orchs calmed down. The uneyes bored into Gimlil once more but this time he glared back even as he held on to his last shivering bravery as it hissed one last threat:

"Tomorrow, dwarf!"

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

They were stripped of their makeshift weapons and armour by guards with bows who made very certain to keep their distance to the pair. The elf was still so disoriented he could barely stand and Gimli had to help him with the chainmail. The elf's hands felt very cold on his shoulders as he leaned on him, and Gimli repressed a shudder.

Since one cage were missing a bar they were both crammed into a single cage, uncomfortably pressed together and even more uncomfortably pressed against the bars. Gimli was almost too exhausted to care, but if they ride back was anything like the ride to the arena, they would both be torn to shreds by attacking orchs. Maybe that was to be preferred compared to what the nazgul might do to him. Tomorrow, the wraith had said. He shoved the dread from his mind with an effort. He must survive until tomorrow first.

He was all but standing on the elf's toes in the small cage as they rolled out from the arena but there were no orchs in sight now apart from the guards. Perhaps the others had orders to disperse after the fighting. Gimli let out a sigh of relief as they rolled through empty streets.

"We survived today at least." he tried to put some heart into it but the elf just gave him a pitying stare.

"Survive the day? The fighting was the easy part, Naur Fang. Now comes the real test."

The real test, the elf called it. To Gimli it seemed more like a blessing.

They were shoved into small cells in dark stone with no windows and no light; Gimli felt the tortured stone around him like an embrace; no matter how tormented this mountain was it was still a mountain and it welcomed home one of its children. He stroke the cut, jagged rock as if it had been a living thing but could do nothing to ease its pain. Even in this absolute dark and quiet his eyes adjusted enough to see what little there was to see. A cell barely long enough for him to stretch out in, a door that shut almost completely and a very high ceiling. Somewhere up there he could smell metal, some kind of ventilation grid he supposed, or the prisoner would have suffocated. He tried to reach it but to no avail. His fingers barely brushed the metal when he jumped as high as he could. There were no pail even of straw in the cell and no blankets.

And then he heard the jagged breath. Every hair on his body seemed to raise up; was there someone else in the cell with him? Some new kind of creature to fight and kill? But no, the cell was far too small and empty for anyone to hide there.

"Hello?" he said, backing up towards the wall as a precaution. "Who's there!"

The breaths held up, then came back calmer.

"You can hear me?" A by now familiar voice said, somewhere down by his boots.

"Blue Eyes?" Gimli scrambled to his knees and felt around the stone; there was another ventilation shaft, this one going horizontal apparently to the cell next to his.

A hoarse little laughter came from the grid. That anyone could still laugh after a day like this...

"That is very much not my name."

No, his name was probably Eager Waterfall or Silver Thumb or something equally poncy.

"Blue Eyes will do for now. Are you unhurt?" Gimli asked. "What did you mean this was a new test? What will happen to us here?"

"Happen? Is it not enough to be locked in here, far from the sky and the wind? Buried alive in darkness...."

"It's just rock. It won't cave in on you, on my word." He banged his fist against the solid stone. "This is good solid stone. It can't help the use it is being put to."

For a short while it was quiet. then the elf said, sounding surprised at his own words:

"I believe you, Fire Beard. Although I suppose that's not your name either."

"It's close enough," Gimli couldn't help but grin.

"It was....strange. Your beard. The first time in far too long I have seen red that wasn't blood or fire put to evil use. It reminded me of autumn leaves back in my home, or the sunset. I had almost forgotten those things."

Gimli's throat constricted painfully.

"How...how long have you been here?"

It was quiet again.

"I can't remember. Time has no meaning here. Sometimes they leave me in this hole for days, I think. But I know it used to be much, much colder in here. Since winter, at least."

Gimli sat back, trying to comprehend what he was being told. How could anyone survive here so long? Once more a stray thought tried to get through; a lost elf, someone he'd heard of last year....but he didn't much listen to gossip about elves.

"It's autumn now," he said slowly. "You've been here almost a year."

This time the silence went of for a long time.

"Forty one," the elf finally said.

"What?!" Gimli shook his head, nonplussed.

"That's how many orchs and creatures I've killed since I was taken here. Forty one. Better to remember that than the months I've lost."

Against his will, Gimli was impressed. This elf must have a soul as strong and steady as a mountain.

"Do you know what will happen to me?" he swallowed. "Tomorrow?"

"You are not the first mortal brought here," the elf said quietly. "Most die within a fight or two. Some....gets freed after they tainted their souls and sent back to their people to do the evil will there." Gimli remember the nazgul's deal. Now he was doubly glad he hadn't taken it. "But you....you attacked the wraith! No one has ever done that. I have no idea what they will do to you but...." he trailed off and Gimli didn't need more words anyway.

"What about you?" He asked hoarsely.

"I fear I intrige the nazgul. Elves rarely survive imprisonment like this. I think he tries to break me. I think he wants to see if he can turn me into an orch." the words were delivered so dispassionately that Gimli first didn't understand their portent, but when he did he scrambled backwards until he hit the opposite wall. An orch! And he had almost put trust in such creature!

"Yes, that is how I fear my people would react to me, should I even be able to escape," the elf sighed. "I am better off dying here. After i kill as many of them as i can."

Gimli didn't answer. He felt sick to the core; turn someone into an orch! Could that be done? Of course there had been rumours but not even the most stubbornly elf-hating dwarf really believed those to be anything but Sauron’s or Morgoth’s lies. There had to be a limit after all, even to the evils of Morgoth. Didn't there?

He was saved from saying anything by a rattling at the door. It opened and a few pieces of stale bread and a joint of meat were tossed in, along with a bowl of stale water. The door had barely closed before Gimli threw himself over the bread and water, famished after the long day.

"Don't eat the meat," came a warning from the other cell. "It's most likely from the last poor mortal they caught."

They ate in silence and that gave Gimli time to calm himself. When the meager meal was done, he said:

"I don't think you are turning into an orch. You saved me today. You have tried to help me, to warn me. Anyone turning into an orch would do differently."

There were more silence. Then the elf said, very quietly:

"I think I know how to get you out of here."

"What?! How? Why haven't you...."

"I cannot do it alone. It had to be someone who trusted me." The elf's word came quickly but Gimlil had the succinct feeling he was hiding something. Still, what choice did he have? Tomorrow the Nazgul would kill him anyway. "When you helped me with the chainmail....I put a few loose rings down your shirt. Do you feel them? Good."

Gimli did, to his surprise. He'd thought it was the elf's touch that gave him chills. In the dark he relied on touch and smell to determine the use of the little metal parts; they were on inferior making and thin enough that he could bend them a little with his fingers, but they were solid enough.

"Use them to loosen the ventilation grid in your cell. You should be able to squeeze through it. After that you are on your own."

"But...what about you?" Gimli stared in the dark.

"There's no ventilation in here but the one we are talking through. I cannot get out. But it would cheer my heart to know I gave you a chance."

"It's no use." Gimli slumped back down. "There's a reason they put me in here, not you. I can't reach the grid. It's almost twice my height."

"Oh." the elf's voice got heavy with weariness. "I am sorry."

"Don't be. None of this is your fault. But I..." He blinked as the thought struck him, hampered by a short bout of panic. If he was wrong.....well, if he was then he'd die a few hours earlier, that was it. "How big are you, Blue Eyes?"

It took a lot of work to loosen the first ventilation grid with nothing to work with but a few pieces of metal and nothing to go by but touch. Gimli's fingers were callused and hardened by years of working a forge and holding a war axe but even so he was bleeding freely, making the metal slippery and his work harder. In the end the elf had to stick in one of his ridiculously long legs in the hole from his side and kick loose the grid. Then there were a few minutes of panic when it seemed he wouldn't fit through it but get stuck but he finally managed to wriggle through the small opening, leaving behind skin and cloth and hair on the sides.

Now came the hard part.

"I have to sit on your shoulders, lad. It's the only way I can reach. Unless you think you can loosen the grid?" Gimli looked doubtful at the willowy elf, starved and skinny.

"No, it has to be you. I don't have the skill with metal. Climb up once I braced myself."

To say it was awkward was an understatement but Gimli was too occupied with the way the elf was shaking with exhaustion and how much his own fingers screamed in pain to be much troubled by simple embarrassment. From his perch he could reach the grid and work it with the chainmail rings but it was hard, slow work. He had no idea how much time passed. If the guards came in it would all be over.

Finally the damn grid came off, taking what felt like most of the skin and meat on Gimli’s fingers with it. He peered up into the dark shaft and sucked in a breath as all hope left him. 

“What is it? Can you make it up the shaft? Is it too small?” The elf’s voice was trembling almost as much as his body by now and Gimli quickly climbed down, letting the elf slide down on his knees as his last strength abandoned him. 

“It’s impossible. It’s at least twice your height and completely smooth. No handholds that I could see.” Gimli’s voice felt dead even to himself and for compensation he patted the elf’s shoulder awkwardly. “I’m sorry. It was a mighty fine idea, but….maybe if we put back the grid they won’t notice and perhaps you next cellmate will be taller than me, or a small hobbit perhaps and then you can…”

Blue eyes blazed and suddenly looked more like lightning than a calm pond. 

“We are not,” he hissed, still trying to breath properly, “dying in this place! Get on my shoulders again. I’ll push you up.”

“It’s no use! I can’t climb in there!” Gimli tried to protest as the elf grabbed him and hoisted him up on his shoulders once more. “It’s too smooth!”

“I’ll push you the entire way. Now be quiet, I need to breath.”

Where the elf got his strength from, Gimli didn’t understand. Somehow he managed to push Gimli up the steeply sloped shaft and then further, bracing his long legs and bare feet against the smooth-as-ice shaft and pushing Gimli inch by inch up an almost vertical slope. It was impossible; Gimli’s own hands, used to rock climbing since he was a child, slipped and found no purchase but the elf somehow managed.

There was an opening at the top and Gimli clawed his way through it and then got to his feet in time to grab the elf’s arm and pull him out as well before he gave up and fell back down the hell hole. 

They both lay panting, too exhausted to even make sure no one had seen their escape. To his surprise, Gimli saw a faint smile on the elf. 

“Well, “ he said, eyes fixed far far above on a pale sky made dirty by fumes and exhausts from the orchish lands around them, “at least now we’ll die under the open sky.”

To Be Continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole fic is based on a dream I had the other night were basicly all of this happened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I commit the ultimate sin towards them both in this chapter…..

It took some time before either of them were fit to even consider getting up on their feet. From what little could be seen of the sun behind the veil of smoke Gimli assumed it was just after midday which meant they probably had hours before the orchs would come and check on their prisoners or even move about too much. 

As they lay panting, he had time to properly look at the elf for the first time. He was tall and skinny like all of his kin, and almost sickly pale under the grime that had been ground into his skin. His clothes were in tatters but what could be seen seemed like good cloth and a decent cut, clothes meant for someone to travel fast and light. What could be seen of his hair underneath months of fighting and dirt was probably gold; it was impossible to say. Once more Gimli had the feeling he should know about this elf, but he couldn't recall ever meeting a golden haired elf. Some russet wood elves seen at a distance, one or two black haired nobles visiting the dwarven kingdoms with their guards....Gimlil hadn't spoken to either much and yet some memory kept gnawing at him.

It was probably not important. What was important was to continue their escape.

His whole body ached when he got up and he couldn't suppress a pained groan. The elf turned his head and watched him with eyes that seemed even bluer and clearer in the light of day, shining out like jewels in his dirty face.

"Once they start searching for us we wont be able to hide out here. Not like this." Gimli made a weary gesture at himself, his dwarven clothing and braids. "Stay here. I will find us some cover."

He could almost see the suspicions in those clear eyes; if Gimli didn't return but hurried away he might get a good head start on the hunt, and even better if the orchs stopped to take out vengeance on the elf before continuing. But then he nodded, closing his eyes again. Willing to trust or just too tired to care? Gimli didn't know but the thought offended him.

"I will be back, on my word." he said stiffly before hurrying away amongst the rocks.

Finding orchs was far too easy; finding two whom he could kill without attracting attention took some work but he finally returned when the sun was setting, dragging two orch corpses behind him. He almost expected the elf to be long gone but there he was, looking a bit better now he had rested. Or maybe it was just the open air with no cage or arena around him that made him better; who knew about elves?

He frowned as he looked at the two carcassess with bashed in heads.

"You mean for us to disguise ourselves then?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Gimli started to pull off helmets and chainmail, grunting with satisfaction when he found a serviceable knife in one orch's belt. "We already smell like them, so they wont be able to track us like that." He cast a glance at the still frowning elf and blurted out the part of his plan he suspected would go down least well. "We're going to have to cut off our hair though. Orchs don't have much of it, so it will give us away." He rose a hand to stop the bristing protest he could already see in the elf's shocked face. "At least *you* wont have to cut off your beard, so I don't want to hear it!"

The elf shut his mouth and after a while managed:

"I suppose if a dwarf can do such a sacrifice it would be churlish of me to protest. Hand me the knife, I'll cut off my own."

A knife was not a good tool for cutting hair and in the end they had to assist one another, cutting of chunks of it and stuffing it back into the shaft they had escaped from, along with the two stripped orchs. The orching armor hung on the elf and strained on Gimli but it hadn't fitted very well on the orchs either so it would hopefully not attract much attention. The helmets hid their faces well enough and with Blue Eyes handling the knife and Gimli getting a spear from the other orch they sat out in the vague direction North, trying not to think of how much their new clothes itched and crawled with vermin or how their bare heads felt cold and chafed against metal.

They had little idea how they would ever reach other lands but north was north and that was probably their best chance. The lands around them were desolate and seemed dead but from caverns and buildings they could hear the sound of orchs waking up as the sun set quickly. Nervous sweat broke all over Gimli as the orchs started to crawl out of their hiding holes. Hundreds of them. Thousands, perhaps. This was the first test for their disguises but they kept walking, not meeting anyones eyes and it seemed to work. No one approached them or tried to greet them - orchs weren't very sociable - and if they smelled peculiar under the dirty then their scent got lost in the throng of so many orchs swarming around them.

Although his heart still beat like a war drum, Gimli started to think they might actually get through this when a warning hand landed on his shoulder. Despite the seeming chaos there were some kind of grim order to the orchs and captains started coming out, herding their carders together with the help of whips and fists and swearing orders. Would someone recognize them as belonging to some special group? In any situation where someone could know the orchs whose clothes they'd stolen, they would be immediately recognized.

And worse, much worse; from a distance they could hear horns blowing. Their escape had been noticed. Gimli was about to make a run for it down the crowded road when the grip on his shoulder tightened even more and he was dragged behind a group of orchs. He felt the vibration of running feet just a few heartbeats later and an orch came sprinting in, sweating and wild eyed and every eye turned to him. He had some kind of banner tied to his back which Gimli took to understand he was some kind of messenger. He could figure out just what kind of message was so urgent far too easily.

"Orders from up above!" The orch croaked once he got his breath back. "Prisoners escaped! Must be found at all costs! They are wanted by the Nine themselves!"

"What kind of prisoners?" Asked a huge orch with a captains whip in his hand. The messenger glared at him.

"Are you stupid? The dwarf and the elf! Find them or we will all pay! You want to be the next on the experimental slab? Maybe their lordships will see if they can reverse you back to an elf! Wouldn't that be a pretty sight?"

Blue Eyes grip on his shoulder was now so hard that Gimli almost winced. The messenger continued.

"Continue on your normal routes, is the order, but keep your eyes and noses open! A reward to those that find them and a punishment for all others! And I need someone to carry on the message for me. It needs to go all the way to the Black Gates. No one gets in, and no one gets out until the prisoners are found!"

He glared around to find someone to take up his duty but no one seemed to want to meet his eyes. Gimli assumed orchs didn't volunteer to anything freely and he was about to use the distraction to fade back to the shadows and make a run for it. He was wholly unprepared when the elf rose his hand.

Gimli couldn't believe his eyes as the masses of orchs started to disperse and the messenger came towards them. The elf had betrayed them! The last thing they needed was attention from anyone, even a simple messenger. But Blue Eyes leaned down and whispered in his ear.

"That messenger banner is our way out. You'll have to speak; my voice will give us away."

Aye, that was true. Gimli's thoughts scrambled around but he saw the elf's idea now. It could work, but only if the elf kept shut. There were no way such a clear voice would ever be heard in freedom in Mordor.

"You'll take it?" The messenger peered suspiciously at them and Gimli quietly prayed to Malah. "You don't seem very fast. That one's better." He pointed at the elf.

"I'll run for three days if I have to," Gimli made his voice as coarse as he could. Lucky these orchs spoke Common. "Not fall over after two hours like you! The prisoners has to be stopped? Then we are the ones to do so." 

The orch still seemed to hesitate but all others were hurrying away from there, eager to go out hunting prisoners and hope to avoid getting sent on a miserable running quest. He shrugged.

"I'll report your names and numbers to the bosses," he peered at their uniforms where he could apparently see some signs that escaped the elf and dwarf. "What's your names?"

"Bork and Kraka," Gimli made up on the top of his head, hoping for the best. The messenger nodded.

"Straight to the Black Gates with you then! And if you are slower than the prisoners, you'll be feed to the nazgul steeds!" he threw over the messenger banner and a sealed document and stomped away to find someplace to rest.

"No risk of that," Gimli muttered and took up the document. Blue Eyes took the banner and attached it to his back.

"Well done. No one will stop us now." There was a shadow of a smile underneath the helmet.

"No smiling!" Gimli growled back. "And no standing up so straight; hunch over."

"Well then, stop having your chin up so proudly and such a spring in your step! You are not making a very convincing orch, Fire Beard!" Blue Eyes retorted miffed.

Gimli sighed and stroke a hand where his beloved beard had been.

"Maybe we better save our breath for running," he said. "You better be able to keep up, Blue Eyes."

The only answer he got was a snort.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nooooo, let's bope elven hair and dwarven beards grow out fast!


	4. Chapter 4

It was by far the most horrible run in Gimli's life. He was exhausted from lack of sleep and too little food and his whole body ached with numerous hurts. The helmet kept bouncing on his head and chafing skin that hadn't been exposed since he was a child. He couldn't let himself dwell on the lack of beard; he'd looe all heart.  
Instead he held on to stubborn pride. As long as the elf next to him didn't ask for a few minutes to catch their breath, then neither would he. He'd rather let his heart burst than give in first.

Unfortunately, by the look in the blue eyes, the elf thought the same.

It was a checkpoint that forced them both to stop, coughing and wheezing in the dusty dry air as the orchs looked on but showed no signs of wanting to help. The city or burg or whatever they were in seemed to come to an end here, with a huge black gate set deep into a sturdy wall and carefully closed and barred. Once more Gimli wondered just where they were. He didn't know much about Mordor, but he was fairly sure this was not Barad-Dur. If they'd been that close to Sauron, surely they would have felt it. More likely this was some city state belonging to one of the Ringwraiths, to keep and guard the road leading to the Black Gates. From the corner of his eye, he saw the elf wave at the messager banner tied to his back, and the guards in front of them exchanged a suspicious look.

"Got a message for the Black Gates. Let us through or answer to the Eye!" Gimli pressed out between gulps of air.

It felt almost unreal to see orchs work to open the gates for them; he couldn't believe it would be so easy. A nudge on his shoulder drove him forward even though he expected it to be a trap and he couldn't stop throwing nervous glances around as they walked under the gate bridge, through the open gates and out into the open, desolated plains between here and the Black Gates. The hand on his shoulder steered him, but jumped just as much as he did when the gates were shut with a large boom behind them.

They had escaped the city.

All around them were open dusty plains, riddled with pits full of foul water and large blocks of black stone, outcrops from the mountain range surrounding Mordor. The road was hard trodden dirt but looked well used and went more or less straight towards the Black Gates in the distance although it occasionally disappeared behind the outcrops and rocks.

As if they'd agreed on it, they started running much slower and kept their weapons ready. It was a two day run to the Black Gates from here if they husband their strength and in the city they'd had the protection of disappearing into the masses. Out here they were an easy target and anyone they met would be sure to know about escaped prisoners, at least until they reached the Gates. What they would do when they came that far, Gimli didn't know. One step at the time, that was the only way they would ever survive this. No use making up long term plans.

The dark of night caused little problem for them; Gimli was used to underground dwellings and the elf's eyes were almost frighteningly keen. He was the one who snatched Gimli's had away from where he meant to place it on a rock. A venomous hissing made him step back.

"A snake? Here?!" He rubbed his hand as if he could almost feel its fangs in his flesh.

"Life even here," the elf said with a lot more admiration than Gimli felt. To Gimli's absolute horror he held out a hand and let the rock-coloured snake's tongue play over his fingers. The hissing stopped and the snake uncurled.

"Are you crazy?! Let it be, before it bites you!"

"It wont bite me. It has a fairly good life here, I recon, living on rats in the pits. But nothing survives orchs unless it's masked and hidden and dangerous."

The words seemed to strike on something in Gimli's mind again, some elves who survived just because they were hidden and dangerous. But he didn't' know much about them.

"Come now, Blue Eyes and leave the creature to itself. We need to figure out how to get out of here, not how to make friends."

The elf nodded and stepped up beside him as they continued on. Gimli thought he could feel the snakes cold breath in his neck for several minutes. Crazy elves!

"Do you think we can trick the gate guards to let us out there as well?" Blue Eyes asked.

"I doubt it lad. What excuse would we have to continue out into Emyn Muil? Won't be anyone to leave messages to there. Us getting this far alone is worthy of a tale or two." He took a few drinks of the stale water in his messengers pouch.

"It's a shame no one will hear of it...." The elf fell silent as Gimli grabbed his hand. Through the hard rock, he could feel vibrations. Someone was approaching fast. Several someones.

There were nowhere to run and nowhere to hide so they pressed themselves against the black rock and crouched down, hoping that whoever it was would just pass them by. They were far enough from the city now that they couldn't be see from there, but with the eastern sky greying Gimli figured that patrols would be returning for the day's rest. And of course those patrols would use the road.

Twenty orchs came into view, running with heavy feet on the tortured ground. A few cast a glance at the two messengers having a rest, but most ignored them and they were soon far down along the road. Blue Eyes made to rise, but Gimli squeezed his hand. The rock underneath him told of at least four stragglers.

Whoever the stragglers were, they weren't in much hurry. All of them stopped to stare down at the messengers.

"What's this? Is this the kind of rabble they sent out these days? Didn't even make it passed the front porch before falling over! Get up, you lazy rats!" One of the orchs kicked Blue Eyes leg and Gimli could almost feel the elf holding back instinctive murder. Slowly they got to their feet, careful to hunch and keep their heads down. The scrutiny made them both nervous.

"We were just letting you pass," Gimli made his voice as coarse as he could. "We'll be on our way now. Important message for the Black Gates."

The orchs exchanged looks.

"What kind of message? About the escaped prisoners? I've heard the Nine themselves will start the hunt if they're not found today. And you know what that means." The orch made a tell-tale gesture over his neck. "Those fellbeasts gets hungry on patrol and nothing much for them to eat out here but poor patrolls or lazy messenger boys, hm?"

"Well then, let us get on with our business!" Gimli tried to push pass the closest orch, but was roughly pushed back; he had to scramble to keep his ill fitting helmet on.

"Weren't the prisoners an elf and a dwarf? A tall one and a small one?" A hooked sword came out, pointing at Gimli's neck. "Those armour belongs to the second battalion. Are no messengers in that battalion. Take of your helmets."

Gimli froze and he could feel the elf doing the same and in their hesitation the orchs came closer. The scimitar pressed against his jugular and he gripped the spear closer, knowing that in this close quarters he'd have no chance with a weapon like that.

The hand in his hand - hadn't he let go of that? - squeezed harder for a second and that was all the warning he got.

The elf tore of his helmet and for a second there was a blazing light or wrath surrounding him as his face shone beneath the grime and dirt. Gimli had heard of such a thing; that elves in battle could shine with a light that scared the enemy. But not all elves. Only nobel ones. Who was this elf?!

The orchs fell back with their hands over their eyes for a few heartbeats, but that was enough. Suddenly Gimli had space enough to use the spear and he did so; beside him Blue Eyes used the dagger with brutal efficiency.

But the orchs were barely dead before the elf grabbed Gimli's shoulder and shoved him along the road.

"We must run! They must have seen that light all the way to the city we left! They know where I am now and our only hope is to outrun them in daylight!" He pushed Gimli along until he got up speed, but then almost stopped. Gimli could see the sudden realisation on his face and forestalled it.

"Don't even think of using yourself as bait! We've come this far together and I'm not abandoning you now!"

Whatever he saw on Gimli's face wisely made the elf shut up.

Dawn was breaking, dirty and smudged, behind grey clouds when they heard the sound. It was far away at first but even then it made Blue Eyes stumble like he hadn't done all through the dark night and sent absolute terror down Gimli's spine.

"It's a nazgul! It's coming!" The elf screamed and then tumbled over as if he'd been hit when a new scream pierced the air. Clutching his ears he tried to get up but even Gimli could make out the dark shape against the greying sky now - and it was approaching fast.

"We need to get off this road!" He roared, grabbing the elf's shoulder and hoisting him up.

"Off the road? We'll make no headway out there and we'll be just as exposed!" Blue Eyes screamed back and then fell over Gimli when a new scream cut through his mind.

"Can you keep on your feet?" Gimli grumbled under the not insignificant weight of the elf.

"No. I....it cuts like blades through my head. Through my very soul. Can't you hear it?!"

"I can hear it alright." But it didn't affect him that bad. Half dragging, half lifting the elf he got them over a few boulders and off the road, scrambling for somewhere to hide. The rocks were mute with terror around him but he spied a dark shadow under a fallen stone. Praying there wouldn't be any snakes he pushed the elf down and slid after.

Not half a dozen heartbeats later the sky darkened again as a creature flew over them. Blue Eyes curled up around himself and bit his lip not to make a sound, eyes closed hard. Gimli felt a pressure like being underwater weighing on his body and making it hard to breath, a creeping feeling of something dirty dragging over his very soul, much worse than the vermin in his clothes.

And then it flew on, following the road and heading for the Black Gates.

They crawled out, staring after it. Finally Blue Eyed said, fingers twitching.

"I could have shot it down, had I had a bow."

Gimli snorted.

"There's some kind of prophesy though, isn't there? No Man can kill it."

"Yes but we are not Men, though, are we? If it is the Race the prophecy refers to."

"Are you willing to risk your life on semantics, elf? Better to leave it be and pray for the best. Besides," he sighed. "It will reach the Black Gates far ahead of us. And the scouts we killed will be found so now they know which way we are going and will send out search parties from both Gate and City. We'll be trapped if we stay on the road. Better try to make it West from here."

"There is no known road over the mountains there." The elf sighed. "Lucky I am in the company of one who knows rocks better than anyone. If anyone can find a way over the mountain of Shadow, I believe it would be you, Fire Beard."

Unaccustomed by the unexpected praise, Gimli stood quiet a little. Then he said.

"There is...rumors of another path, although it is spoken of with dread. We might find it."

"Does it have a name?"

"Cirith Ungol."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Spider's Cleft' I wonder what monster might be hiding there, Faramir? We might never find out….


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Entering Gimli: The Mountain Whisperer

They made slow headway over the rocky broken terrain away from the road. The stone here was harsh and unforgiving and Gimli's callused hands were soon scratched and torn, as was Blue Eyes, and they left enough blood traces for a blind orch to follow by scent alone. Gimli knew that their only chance was to keep ahead of the hunt and the only way to do so was to keep moving during the daylight hours but exhaustion started to claim him. He needed sleep, if only for an hour or two and from the look of it the elf did to.

"Here. We must rest." Blue Eyes pointed to a crater with some dirty water at the bottom and Gimli slid down the ragged slopes gratefully.

"I didn't think elves needed sleep. Or not as much as us mortals anyway." He said between bites of stale bread.

"There is nothing here on which to rest my mind when I walk. I need proper sleep." The elf was already laying down, his eyes open but starting to glaze over as his mind slipped away.

Gimli watched him for a few heartbeats, then shuffled closer and lay down back to back. It was just common sense after all and had nothing to do with how much it eased his worried soul to have another living being close in this dead land.

He woke as the sun was starting to set, after perhaps three hours of sleep. Enough to keep going, or so he had to hope. If they were very lucky they'd reach the edge of the Mountains of Shadow sometime just before dawn. He sat up and stretched, uncomfortably aware of how well he had slept next to an elf. Well, this elf at least had proven to be very trustworthy. Not one to simply sit down and die of broken heart nor to betray his companion although he'd had several chances. Gimli had to admit trying to get through all of this alone would be too much, even for him.

Blue Eyes was already sitting up and staring at something across the foul pond. Gimli frowned and looked as well; it seemed to be a thorny bush, grey and half dead. Blue Eyes must have seen him stare, for he smiled a bit embarrassed.

"It is comforting to see living things, even here. It gives me hope."

"It's just a thorny bush." Gimli stood up and stretched. "But if it gives you hope, then I'll think of it as heartening as well. We will need some good omens." And it *was* heartening, surprisingly. Heartening to see just how quickly the elf had bounced back from the desperate, half broken creature he'd been in the cage. Freedom, even the freedom to flee for your life, had done much to bring his spirits up and it made Gimli silently vow that they would never be taken alive back to those pits.

"It reminds me of you, you know." The elf said as they moved on across the landscape.

"Oh?" He could feel himself bristle; to be compared to a half dead bush!

"Resilient. A survivor. Refusing to let this bleakness dampen you." Blue Eyes took a deep breath. "I don't think I would have gotten this far alone. I don't think I would have had the will for it. So should we die tonight...I just want to say thank you."

"Oh." Flummoxed Gimli tried to think of what to say; this wasn't at all what he'd expected to hear. "That's nonsense. You were the one with a plan to get us out of the cells. And the strength for it." He added begrudgingly.

"But you are the one who has led us this far. And when the nazgûl comes, I'm of little use." He shuddered.

They started walking in the quickly falling dusk. The mountains in their way looked unsurmountable; so tall and steep they almost touched the sky. Their size didn't deter Gimli but the terror that emanated from them was daunting. These weren't normal mountains but they were things torn from the ground to serve as a wall for evil. Keeping out all good forces. Or in, in their case. He told Blue Eyes as much.

"Will the mountains resist us then?" He asked frowning. "Make our path more difficult, make us slip and trip if it can? I have heard of mountains like that. Caradhras in particular."

"I don't think so. Barazinbar the Cruel is malicious in himself, but these poor fellows doesn't even have names. They only have terror and wrongness. But they won't go out of their way to help us either, as Ered Luin might. The mountains of my homelands protect our people, as we protect them."

There was a lengthy pause.

"I thought dwarves didn't tell the secret names of their language to anyone." Blue Eyes said carefully. "Barazinbar. And you talk about the mountains as if they had a will of their own."

A bit awkward, Gimli shrugged. "It is not the most secret name. I would say you earned it. And of course the mountains is alive, you daft elf. Not alive as you and me, but in their own way. Treat them well and they will aid you."

"I will....keep it in mind." Blue Eyes smiled. "And thank you. I should then tell you that Cirith Ungol has a meaning as well: it's Spider's Pass."

"Aye, probably because we'll need to climb like spiders to ascent it," Gimli grunted.

As soon as they grey dusk turned into night, the hunt began. Scrambling desperately over the rocky outhills in a mad dash for the mountain, they could hear their pursuers both by land and air; screaming and howling orchs and beasts following their trace. Everytime the nazgûl flew over them Blue Eyes grew pale and faltered and Gimli had to drag him along but although the orchs could track them by scent, the Ringwraith seemed to depend on sight and it didn't see them. They had perhaps an hours lead on the orchs and Gimli used every bit of mountain lore he knew to keep them ahead and in what he hoped was the right direction to the Pass, judging by the composition of the rocks and mountain. The stairs had to be hewn after all and there were places better to do such things than others, he could only hope that whoever had made the pass had known enough about rock hewing to choose an appropriate place to make them.

He was wrong.

The path they had been following led abruptly to a dead end, so unexpected he almost ran face first into a rock cliff in the dark. With absolute despair he saw the sheer rock surrounding them on three sides, all too steep to be climbed by even a spider or an elf. And from behind them the sounds of orchs approaching grew louder.

Exhausted he leaned his head against the cliff.

"I have failed us. I am sorry." The words were too small for what he'd done but he could find no others. Blue Eyes had trusted him and he had led them straight to their dooms.

"No. No!" The elf grabbed his shoulders and turned him around, leaning over him. Again he was amazed how brilliantly his eyes shone. Clearer and truer than any saphire, and far more alive.

And at the moment, very angry.

"I will not have you give up now. We've come this far. We will find away."

"There is no way. Or if there is, I do no know where it is. And we have run out of time to double back."

Blue Eyes took a deep breath.

"Where I used to live, there are trees that are alive. Alive like your mountains, with a will and mind of their own. And while most are good there are some that are evil but most....most are simply frightened. Frightened of this Shadow that lies over our forests as it does these mountains. But even they will aid if the need is great enough. Listen to your mountains! Let them help you find the way." His dirty face was not frightened, Gimli realised. Somehow, in the face of their doom, he still held hope.

So how could a dwarf do any less? Gimlil nodded and turned back to the rock, tried to block out all sounds of orchs or nazgûls a she placed his hands on the hard surface. It was not so different from the stone in his homeland. Behind him, Blue Eyes still held his hands on his shoulder and the presence was comforting. Whatever would happen he would die next to a friend.

A mountain didn't speak with words. It spoke with images of how it was built, where it was weak and where it was strong and where its treasures might be found.

Where its paths had been formed.

Grabbing the elf's hand, Gimli moved quickly. He didn't dare to speak for fear of breaking his bond to the cliff but Blue Eyes seemed to understand and followed eagerly. Back almost a thousand steps - and the orchs were just behind the bend, or so it sounded - and through a narrow crack between two boulders that scraped them raw. Crawl up through a low tunnel and use the precarious leaning stone close by to seal off the tunnel once through. Then an hour or so of crawling, jumping and running in absolute darkness and....

And there it was. The Pass of the Spider, leading up into more darkness, almost as steep as a cliff wall but surmountable on rough hewn steps.

"You did it!" Blue Eyes laughed and it might have been the first time in millenia anyone had laughed this side of the Mountains of Shadow. "I knew you could!"

Gimli wanted to tell him to be quiet, that even if they had left the orchs behind there was still the nazgûl, but he couldn't stop the broad grin on his own face. Up until now he realized he'd never realy expected them to survive or escape. Their flight had felt like a thing of spite to the Shadow, not one of hope. But now....now he felt a stirring inside him.

The ascent was almost more of a climb than walking up steep stairs, but it was surmountable. Mordor fell away underneath them step by step as they dragged themselves upward for most of the night. Gimli was pleased to hear no sound of orchs pursuing them anymore, but more worried about the nazgûls disappearance. Surely a few rocks fallen over a path wouldn't fool it? But he was grateful for silence as long as it lasted. It would be a horror to be caught out here, with no escape or even hideout in sight.

Sunlight caught up with them as the crawled over the last step but couldn't penetrate the absolute darkness of the cave ahead of them. Blue Eyes leaned against its opening, trying to listen inside but almost jumped back, shaking his hand where something sticky was caught.

"Disgusting!" He muttered as he scraped it off on the rock wall.

Gimli couldn't help but guffaw.

"It's just spiderweb! Don't tell me you, who talk to snakes and thorny bushes, are afraid of spiders?"

The elf gave him a very, very long look.

"I think your experience of spiders and mine are very different."

Gimli was about to say something teasing about that but terror overtook him. This time it wasn't even the scream of the nazgûl that overwhelmed them but its sheer presence; like a wave of filth and evil it rushed over them, threatening to drown them in despair.

The nazgûl had found them and landed on the stairs just outside the cave.

Blue Eyes screamed in utter despair and fell over, crawling in on himself like a wounded animal. Gimli grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away from the opening but the elf was frantic with fear and wouldn't budge as the nazgûl reached for him. Gimli knew he should leave him, should flee down the cave while he had a chance but it wasn't in him to do so.

Instead he attacked.

He threw the spear at the creature's steed and the flying beast screamed and flapped its wings in panic. For a few heartbeats the nazgûl was forced to retreat, hissing with wrath, and Gimli grabbed Blue Eyes under his arms and dragged him bodily into the darkness of Spider Pass.


	6. Chapter 6

The nazgûl seemed disinclined to follow them. Gimli didn't know why and didn't much care; he dragged the elf as far into the darkness as he could. The cave split off in different paths repeatedly but he kept to the ones that had an inkling of fresh air in them. At last he couldn't go on any further and sank down on the cave floor. Blue Eyes was still in shock from the nazgûls proximity and wouldn't move even to untangle himself from his foetus position. Gimli let him rest his head on his lap and absently stroke the fuzzy bald head. Their helmets were lost and he wasn't about to go back and try to find them.

Slowly the elf relaxed and his eyes took on the strange dreaming look that meant he was asleep. Gimli couldn't begrudge him that, although he wondered why the elf was so affected by the nazgûl and he was not. He wondered a lot of things about this elf; who he had been before he came here, why there was something about him that tickled his memory. Not that it really mattered. The elf was brave and optimistic and Gimli knew he couldn't have wished for a better friend to be at his side in this hellish place.

But he was still curious. The elf was a noble of some kind; he must be to shine like he could. But he was also a warrior, doubtlessly. His head still had tufts of gold on it, very soft ones, and his face in rest was beautiful despite all the hardships he'd been through.

"I will get us out of here. I promise." He whispered in the dark.

After a while, Gimli gently put Blue Eyes down on his rolled up cloak and left him to sleep. He would use the time to see if he could find the shortest rout out of here. If the path was somewhat straight it shouldn't take them more than a day to pass through it.

There were sticky webs on the ground and on the walls and they were big. Gimli wasn't afraid of spiders but he shuddered to think what spiders had made them. They must be big as dinner plates! And the elf had seemed disgusted. What kind of elf didn't like spiders anyway?

Wasn't there some elves living in a forest full of spiders? And wasn't there some rumor about their King?

He almost had it when he suddenly walked into something soft and sticky and could go no further. An enormous webcovered the entire opening and a shudder of panic went down Gimli spine.

Just how big where the spiders in here? Surely not big enough to catch a dwarf!

He tried to back away but couldn't get anywhere. The web clung to him and every motion just got him stuck harder. In desperation he started to tear at the sticky strands, kick away from the net with all his might and the web shook, sending vibrations all over the cave.

*The smaller nets i touched and stepped on. They were trigger alarms, telling which way I was heading!* That's why this net was so fresh and sticky. And that meant whoever did it was....close.

Gimli screamed when he saw the monster - not a spider, not a Spider, but a Spider monster! - wallow out of the shadows, scream like he hadn't done for orchs or trolls or even nazgûls and he suddenly understood all too well what Blue Eyes must feel; he too wanted to curl up and close his eyes as terror shook him. But he was caught and helpless and couldn't even move as the creature approached.

*It's going to eat me. It's going to eat me!* was all he could think as he thrashed helplessly, screaming in panic.

And then Blue Eyes was there, shining in the dark like a beacon with his altogether too small dagger as his only defence. He was screaming something in elven, full of wrath and light and the spider backed away.

It backed away!

With legs raised to ward of the light the creature retreated slowly, followed by the mad elf shouting threats at it. Gimli's mind was almost too filled with terror to even understand what was happening when the spider monster disappeared back into the shadows and the elf hurried over to him and started to saw at the web with the orch dagger.

It was hard work trying to cut the springly strands but the elf had the knack of it and soon Gimli fell into his arms, still shuddering and shaking and not able to move. He was vaguely aware that he was being held, hard, and that Blue Eyes was singing something to him in a low voice and he latched on to that sound as a drowning dwarf to a rope and let it slowly pull him out of the darkness and helplessness.

"Don't worry. I've been there. Being caught by spiders is a horror and this one was bigger than most. But my people have a sure way of handling the aftermath."

"And what would that be?" Gimli said tiredly. Even laying here in the arms of an elf and listening to the comforting elven words, he wasn't really certain he could handle some poncy advice of flowers and starlight right now.

"We get absolutley shit-faced drunk." The elf said seriously and Gimli felt his entire body jump with surprise. Then he started laughing and Blue Eyes started laughing and they laughed half hysterically in the cave. Gimli felt better afterwards.

"Aye, getting shit faced is what I would need right now." He got to his feet, slightly embarrassed and slightly reluctant. It had felt....nice...in the elf's arms.

"Me to. You will have to come to my lands. I promise to ply you with enough wine to make even a dwarf such as you forget about this place." The elf smiled. His ears, Gimli realized, looked ridiculously large on his shaved head. It was adorable. 

"Bah, wine and spiders! Come to Ered Luin instead! Our beer is the best and I swear the spiders are no larger than a fist!"

"Beer tasted like Mens old socks smells. And how would I make you Roast Spider Leg if they are no bigger than that? It's my speciality, you know."

Gently bickering, they made their way out to freedom.

It was luck more than anything that brought them to what must be Men's outpost behind a waterfall. Luckily no Men were there but they could help themselves to some food and new clothes, leaving notes of promise to repay as soon as possible. In an unspoken agreement, they didn't look to see what they other signed their note with. It was Fire Beard and Blue Eyes that had made it out of Mordor and they wanted it to be so for at least a little longer.

The pond at the bottom of the waterfall helped them rid themself of enough filth from Mordor that it felt like shedding a layer of skin and despite his best intentions, Gimli couldn't help but stare. The elf was beautiful; well, he'd known that for a while, but like this, free and naked in the setting sun every breath of fragrant air seemed to fill him up with wonder and beauty until he was shining in a way he hadn't even done in the Spider cave. Shining with happiness.

They wrapped themselves in clean blankets and sat looking at the setting sun filtering through the waterfall and casting rainbows over the hidden cave and each other.

"It's beautiful," Blue Eyes whispered, staring into the sun.

"Aye, that it is," Gimli agreed, watching the elf's reflection in the water.

Blue Eyes dragged a hand over his shaved head and half sighed, half snorted.

"Not me. I look like a shaved rat. Once my father is done delighting in my survival, he will have a heart attack at my looks."

"Oh yes? At least you don't look like a child." Acutely aware of his lack of dwarfishness, Gimli rubbed at his chin.

"I don't know. I like the stubble." A long finger dragged along his chin and Gimli jolted as if it had been fire. He felt strange; reborn in this new Place after their trial. Old prejudices seemed ridiculous as best. Besides, there was no denying what had grown between them. "And anyway you are hairy enough everywhere else!" Gimli snapped back and realized he was being teased. He smiled. 

"At least I'm not pale and hairless like a newly peeled twig!"

Blue Eyes laughed and Gimli laughed and suddenly they were kissing and falling down on the blankets and Gimli had no more room for thinking for a very long time.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

They woke up the next morning with ten Men dressed in green and brown with the White Tree on their chest, staring down at them. Their leader looked amused while a Man who was obviously his older brother looked acutely embarrassed.

Gimli fought his own embarrassment as he sat up and arranged the blankets over them but Blue Eyes just observed the men coldly and suspiciously and Gimli realized he was gripping the orch dagger under the cloth. He quickly put his own hand over the elf's to stop him.

"This is a fortunate turn of events," the Men's leader smiled. "and one not even my father could have foreseen, although I'm certain he will be glad to be able to tell both of *your* fathers that you have been found, against all hope, unharmed and in safety. My name is Faramir. Welcome to Ithilien, Prince Legolas Thranduilion and Gimli, son of Glóin."

The shock of that statement rattled both of them worse than waking up naked in front of Men. Gimli all but jumped out of the blankets as Blue Eyes did the same, staring at each other.

"What?!"

"What?!"

"I must apologise," Faramir said as they rode in an armed group back towards Gondor, "but finding you in such...situation....I had assumed you had introduced each other." He still sounded rather amused.

"We had. It's..." Gimli hid his face in his hands. "It's complicated." The Men's clothes he was wearing were too big, his face felt strange in the open air with no hair on it and he was still acutely aware of the elf sitting in front of him on the borrowed horse. He felt very much out of his depths, even worse than in Mordor. And knowing his father waited for him in Gondor with most of the dwarven army AND the Woodland King with HIS army......it was all too much.

Blue Eyes seemed to think so too. He was disturbingly quiet and pale.

But he wasn't just Blue Eyes anymore, was he? He was Prince Legolas, who had disappeared during a skirmish almost a year ago. Rumors had even reached Eren Luin that the King would pay any ransom to get his son back. That was what had been gnawing in Gimli's mind this whole time. A Prince! Possibly the last elven prince left this side of the Sundering Sea. Well, it explained the spiders, and the shining and the whole warrior thing but...He wondered what Blue Eyes was thinking. Did he realize what he had done? Did he remember who he was and now loathed the dwarf he had been through so many adventures with? Would he even remember Fire Beard, or was it all a dwarven noble, son of one of the riches dwarves alive?

It was all enough to make Gimli long back for the Spider Webs.

Both dwarf and elf were in too bad shape to complete the journey to the White City in one day and so the eldest brother Boromir rode ahead to deliver the good news while his younger brother stayed behind. Gimli found himself liking Faramir; the Man was kind and discreet and very competent, for his kind. Sensing the many unsaid things between his wards, he set up camp so that they could get some privacy. Gimli picked up some rations - better food than any of them had seen in too long - and plopped down next to Blue Eyes who were still watching the Men with suspicion. But he managed a faint smile when Gimli sat down next to him and some of Gimli's unease lessened. He was willing to bet his elf still had the orch dagger stowed away somewhere under his clothes and he couldn't help but feel better for it.

"Dinner is served, your highness." With a very low bow, Gimli handed over the food and was rewarded with a laugh.

"Is it the famed hospitality of the riches nobel in Ered Luin? I would have thought it should have been more meat and ale." He took a bite of travel bread and apple, washed down with water.

"Aye, I suppose we both kept our secrets fairly well. Although I have to say, I didn't seem to matter the other side of the mountains." Gimli sighed and joined him.

"It's true. I had almost forgotten who I was anyway. May I call you by your real name then?"

"We could keep the other names....private, if you wish." Gimli probed, not knowing what answer to get. Was what had happened between them a one night thing? Any dwarf with an elf would be a scandal but a Prince....

Legolas sat quiet for a little while. Then he snorted a laughter.

"People will say I married you for money, you know."

Gimli couldn't help but guffaw and felt the tension evaporate, replaced by the warmth and tenderness that had grown between them. Mordor or not, he couldn't see how he would ever go on without Blue Eyes at his side.

"I wouldn't bet the first nouveau rich person to marry onto a title, I suppose! What would my title be, anyway? Princess? Consort?"

They both burst out laughing. Then Legolas pulled his hands over his fussy head.

"Ah, but my father will kill me." He said with sudden bleakness.

"Your father? Whom, according to Faramir, has allied himself with *my* father and were making ready to attack Mordor to get you out once they had convinced that Steward to join them?" Gimli shook his head slowly. Legolas turned to put his head on his shoulder.

"You think it will go well?"

Placing a kiss on the top of his head, Gimli said:

"Hope is what got us this far. Let's not give up on it now."

"Just be wary of these Men, Faramir especially. I sense he has the ability to read hearts, if not minds. It makes me very uneasy."

"It's the nazgûl haunting you, Blue Eyes. These Men seem good to me."

"Perhaps."

Gimli had heard rumours about the elven King, Thranduil, and Blue Eyes words the night before did nothing to calm him and so he was not prepared for when a silver-and-golden apparition swooped down over Legolas the moment they stepped inside Gondor's throne room, almost felling the elf to the ground. From inside the brocade embrace came words that were almost sobs but Gimli had no time to  
try to figure them out as he was himself caught in a bearhug that threatened to break his ribs.

"Calm down father, I'm bruised all over." He muttered embarrassed as he untangled himself. He was surprised to see Legolas still hugging his father, but of course he'd been gone a lot longer. Presumed dead by everyone, probably, except apparently his father. The same father who had done the unthinkable and allied himself with dwarves and Men to get his son back. Gimli thought he might come to at least respect such a father-in-law.

"My son! Look at you!" Glóin patted all over him, tears of joy in his eyes. "Are you hurt? What did they do to you?!" A sudden understanding swept over Glóin's face as he saw deeper than the clumsily shaved face and bruises and understanding dawned on him, bringing horror with it. "What did they - " and now he looked to the elves "-do to you?!"

The elves had finally let go of each other. The Kind was a good hand taller than his son, Gimli noted, and hovered protectively over his offspring like a fully styled peacock over its bedraggled chick.

"It's far too long a tale to tell now," Gimli muttered, side eyeing the large room. Apart from the family reunions, there were several elves in scribe and ambassador- looking clothes, a group of dwarves that Gimli knew to have the same role and of course Men. This was their city after all, and the tall man dressed in black who sat on a chair at the first step to the throne must be their Steward. Gimli met his eyes for a short second and the gaze pierced him like a blade; it was not the horror of the nazgûl and its filth, but being laid bare was still a shock and he almost recoiled, quickly breaking the contact. "We must at least show politeness to the Men in whose city we are."

"Your son is correct," The elven King said with some reluctance. He made to move towards the chair, but Glóin quickly stepped ahead of him. They might be allies, Gimli thought, but one doesn't break generations of squabbling so quickly.

Gimli was introduced with quite unnecessary pomp and circumstance in his opinion and this time managed to look the Steward Denethor in the eyes for the whole time. Judging by the tiny smile on the old Man's lips he learned quite a lot more about Gimli in that time than Gili would have willingly told a stranger. *At least he also learned I'm not a coward.* He thought to himself as the thanked the Man for their help in their rescue, although as far as Gimli could see it had been mostly chance. Still, it didn't pay to be rude to ones host.

Legolas gave him a worried glance as he was swept forward and a sudden fear swept over Gimli.

He was moving before he even knew why, running for throne. He got there just as Denethor looked the elf in the eyes and Prince Legolas crumbled to be quickly replaced by Blue Eyes, who screamed and reached for the orch dagger concealed in his clothes.

"Stay out of my head!"

Gimli threw himself between his love and the Man, catching Denethor's eyes so Blue Eyes could be free. The force of the Man's stare almost knocked the wind out of him; this was a far, far more forceful and penetrating glance than the one he'd given Gimli before; it felt as if he was being dragged into the Man's mind.

A silver - and- red cloud moved quickly between them, breaking the contact so that Gimli was free to grab a hold of the thrashing elf, wrestled him down and, before anyone could see it, hide the dagger away in his own shirt.

"My son is not well." The silver cloud - no it was an elaborate robe, Gimli realized - almost growled. And Glóin was standing next to him. "I request that we will be allowed to withdraw for the day."

"Of course, King Thranduil. Glóin. " If Gimli didn't know better, he'd say the Steward sounded rattled over what had happened to - or perhaps just over what he'd seen in the King's eyes when he stepped between them. Gimli had a feeling it was something in the way of 'We already have our armies inside your City."

Blue Eyes held on to his had so hard no one even considered asking them to split up. They were shown to a room where sunlight painted the walls and Legolas took a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry. I...."

"That Man had no right to do what he did," Gimli assured him. "It was all on him."

"Aye, we'll leave here as soon as we can. As soon as you two are ready to travel." Glóin nodded. "We are far from home and close to Mordor. Makes sense that our armies will travel together as long as possible."

"We will leave within a week. My son needs healing. He cannot get that in this City of Stone." Thranduil added and Gimli, remembering how starved Blue Eyes had been for plants and animals, agreed. Before the two fathers left, the King lingered for a few minutes. Legolas had all but fallen asleep by then and Thranduil's voice was very low as he put a hand on Gimli's shoulder and said.

"I saw the dagger. Thank you."

Before Gimli could think of an answer, he was gone.

Gimli sighed and lay back on the bed next to Blue Eyes. Perhaps there would be peace to be found between all of them after all. 

The End


End file.
